


Over the Rhine

by coldfusion9797



Category: Band of Brothers RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Character Bleed, M/M, POV Alternating, Reunions, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 00:59:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldfusion9797/pseuds/coldfusion9797
Summary: Lonely and disillusioned with the world, Ron attends a Band of Brothers reunion. When he reconnects with Damian, will he have the courage to make the most of a long-awaited second chance?





	Over the Rhine

**Author's Note:**

> This fic in no way reflects the actual thoughts or opinions of these actors. I wrote this back when I was going through a rough patch, I was in a bad headspace and it got projected. I love these boys, and I just needed an outlet. Yet again they were there for me when I needed them most. 
> 
> And as always, I'm super nervous about posting RPF. No disrespect intended.

It's been a long time, years even, since he's seen some of these boys, not that you'd call them that anymore. The decade and a half since BoB shows in wider girths, lined faces and greying hair. Ron knows he's the same, he'll be fifty this year for Christ's sake!

He came to the reunion, because he felt like he should, but really he looks around this room and just feels sad. Back in 2001 these people were the brightest stars on the planet, now so many of them, himself included, have faded into the ether. He wonders if everyone feels as let down as he does? Like the best is far behind them now. He knows he's projecting, not everyone is a miserable wretch like he is, but it's hard to get past the sense of loss. The thought has a flow on effect, makes him feel like the terrible person he knows he is. They had a story to tell, and they told it. Immortalised the real heroes in a way that means Easy Company's courage and sacrifice will never, ever be forgotten. It's not about him, it never was, he knows that, but that doesn't mean the years since filming haven't been difficult ones to get through.

He drinks Vat 69 because that feels fitting, and he plasters a smile on his face to hide the inner turmoil. Apparently he hasn't left Nix as far behind as he thinks.

Some of the men kept in touch after the show. Frank and Rick still work together, writing and acting in films. Ron was even in one, hoping to maybe recapture a little of the magic of times gone by. Michael starred in one too. He did alright for himself, The Walking Dead is a hugely successful show. Eion is deliriously happy with his wife and shows him a photo of his son, who has dark skin and hair like his mother but Eion's incredible blue eyes. The kid sure is cute. He chats to Ross, who is always working or travelling, and seems to really have his shit together. 

He has a drink with Donnie the New Kid. That does make him smile genuinely. Knowing Carwood Lipton, and the fact that he was played by a guy from a boy band. Sometimes he imagines the men of Easy Company, holed up in Bastogne, trying to cheer each other up by teasing one an other about who might play them in a movie. Of course, they could never have imagined how famous they would become, but still. Telling Mamma Lip back then that a New Kid would portray him. Well, it's funny. 

Neil's done okay, played another WWII soldier, in the goddamed MCU. And if that doesn't count as making it, nothing does. But success isn't a cure all either, because Neil's had his demons to battle too.

It's late in the night, and Ron's had a few, when Damian actually shows up. Of everyone Damian's the one that actually managed to forge a respectable career. It means he's busy, maybe that's why he's barely seen him in a decade.

He's not exactly sure what to say. What do you say to someone who shared the very best time of your life? Helped create the most profound thing you've ever done? That you were nominated next to for a Golden Globe? That you saw your future in? Well, in reality they only ever really had one thing in common.

"Why do you think Nix couldn't get his shit together?"

Damian purses that posh mouth and fixes him with a thoughtful look.

"I think he expected too much of himself."

That could be it...

"Or maybe," Ron suggests, "he knew he could never have what he really wanted."

That sparks Damian's curiosity. 

"And what was that?"

With inhibitions lowered by liquor and nothing left to lose, Ron throws it out there.

"What if Dick was his happy ending?"

Ron sounds so dejected when he says it that Damian reaches out and rests a hand over Ron's, just to let him know he isn't alone. Ron's impossibly dark eyes flick up and meet Damian's light ones. His anguish is plain to see.

"Can I stay with you tonight, Dick?"

If Damian had ever held a torch for Ron, he thinks that time has long since passed. But Ron was the one who'd been there beside him during the most ambitious project either of them had ever worked on, and Ron is in need. Damian feels it's only right that he be here to support Ron now.

"Sure, Nix."

Ron follows Damian back to his room, a big fancy one because he is Damian Lewis after all. 

"Drink?" Damian offers.

Ron shakes his head, he doesn't need any more courage, the hard part is over and done with. What he wants now is to savour the moment, however inconsequential it turns out to be.

They toe their shoes off, Damian climbs onto the big bed, propping himself up so he's sitting against the headboard, stretching his long legs out. Ron sits on the edge, unsure about what exactly he wants or what he's allowed to do.

"Come here," Damian smiles, extending a hand towards him. It takes Ron all of five seconds to position himself beside Damian, tucking in close, head on Damian's chest, Damian's arm wrapped firmly around him.

"It's okay Ron," Damian's accented voice tells him. "You can let go for a little while, I've got you." He closes his eyes and feels Damian press a kiss to his temple. And then he just breathes. Feels Damian's chest rise and fall and concentrates on nothing but synchronising his own breaths with that calming rhythm. 

After a while of drifting in contentment, Ron feels the bed shift a little, and instinctively he fists his hand into Damian's shirtfront, determined not to let this moment end. But then he hears the static ping as the TV comes to life. The muted light flickers through his closed eyelids. It's okay, he never expected to be enough for Damian, that he's allowing Ron to have this much is incredibly generous.

He feels a soft laugh ripple through Damian's chest, and then a familiar voice issues from the television. He opens his eyes to see soldiers on a train.

_"Going my way?"_

"Look," Damian says with amusement. "It's Currahee." 

Ron blinks slowly in disbelief, of all the things to be on...

"Turn it off." It reminds him too much of all that he isn't anymore. Of lost potential and squandered opportunities. Damian doesn't react so Ron reaches for the remote but Damian stays his hand.

"Just wait for the bit where Dick gets his summons for the court marshall. Nix is smouldering in that scene."

Ron blinks in disbelief. Again.

"How often do you watch this?"

"All of it or just the Nix bits?"

Ron stares at Damian in astonishment, until Damian laughs it off.

"Look how young we were," Damian points out, still amused, but then his tone shifts to a more appreciative one. "You were a work of art. That shadow on your jaw... I was always insanely jealous."

Ron watches as Nix sits down in front of Dick and Dick gives him one of those crooked smiles. 

That smile line of Damian's appears, so utterly kissable, Ron looks up and sees the same line, albeit a little more defined these days, still there on Damian's face.

"Maybe it's not all bad," Ron allows, reaching up and running his fingers along that line like he always wanted to.  
Damian pulls his eyes away from the screen and looks down at him.

"I never said it was..."

It's been fifteen years, Ron doesn't see the point in holding back any longer. It's not like he has a career to ruin anymore.

"Permission to kiss you?"

"Granted."

He sits up straighter, takes Damian's face in his hands, brushes his thumbs over those lovely lines and stretches up to dab his lips to that enticing crease. 

"That's a kiss?" Damian teases, smile lines deepening with his amusement. 

"Shut up," Ron smiles back. "I've waited a long time for this, so give me a minute, yeah?"

"Okay," Damian allows, eyes alight with desire now. 

Ron continues to press his plush lips to various points on Damian's face, carefully choosing each one as he goes.

If this is the path they are taking then Damian has his own fantasies to fulfil too. He moves around, repositioning them so Ron is lying back on the pillows where Damian can lean over him. He lifts his hand and runs his fingertips over Ron's left eyebrow.

"I love your eyebrows..." he murmurs.

"My eyebrows?" Ron frowns, the right one dips, while the left one stays put. 

"Yeah," Damian grins. "They have personalities of their own."

Damian feels Ron tracing the lines around his mouth again, because he smiled he thinks, and Damian leans down, pressing a kiss to each brow, because they really are their own entities and he wouldn't want one to feel left out.

"My eyebrows?" Ron says again.

"Yes," Damian reiterates, before bringing his fingers down to Ron's mouth and tracing the softness of his plump lips.  
"Your mouth's great too. So soft..."

Damian leans down and kisses it too, catching Ron's full bottom lip between his own. Ron lets out a soft sigh and that's what it takes for the ice between them to melt completely. 

Damian wants him, Ron realises. Wants his crazy eyebrows and his spiteful mouth. Ron feels the weight of fifteen years worth of oppression lift up off his chest and fly away.

He threads his arms around Damian's neck, pushes his fingers up into fading ginger hair and kisses back. Slowly, deeply, reverently. He's suffered plenty long enough to know exactly how precious this is. 

Damian shifts, so he's pressed more heavily on top of Ron, and this is a weight he will gladly bear. 

For a while there's nothing urgent about it, they aren't kids with out of control libidos, they are men who've spent far too long apart. Ron appreciates every sigh and shudder and touch. Until Damian's pulling away...

"Wait, wait, here it is," Damian says, turning his attention back to the TV. 

_"He misspelled court marshall."_

Then Nix brings a cigarette to his lips, exhales a puff of smoke and a soft moan escapes Damian. 

"Seriously," Ron says. "Turn it off."

Damian's still glued to the screen so Ron grabs the remote and does it himself, and this time Damian doesn't protest. 

Damian looks back at him and Ron gives him a smirk. He quirks a brow too, just because he knows Damian will enjoy it. 

"I can put other things in my mouth..."  
he offers. Damian's eyes go wide with amazement and Ron brings Damian's hand to his mouth, singling out a finger and wrapping his lips around it. He draws the digit in, sucking softly, rolling his tongue around it while Damian watches on, breaths growing shallower and shorter. 

Ron pulls it out with a pop and then Damian's on him, crushing their mouths together, harder and needier this time. He kisses along Ron's jaw, over his neck, brings his mouth to rest right by Ron's ear, hot breaths puffing onto his tingling skin, sending a series of shivers through Ron.

"How far do we want to take this?" Damian purrs.

"I haven't been waiting fifteen years to hold back now."

Damian draws back enough to look him in the eye. He's straddling Ron, sitting heavily on his thighs.

"And if I wanna go all the way?"

"I'd ask you what you're waiting for..."

The smile lines grow again and Damian reaches down, working on undoing the buttons of Ron's pale blue shirt.

With every button that comes undone, Damian reveals more of Ron's skin. More to touch, more to kiss. The dark theme continues here, the black hair on Ron's chest frames his nipples, his navel too. Damian moves down, licks the bare skin between one patch and the next, latches his mouth over the right nipple, pinches the left with fingers. Ron's gasping, rising up to meet him, every noise and movement urging Damian on further.

He can feel Ron's eager hands fumbling with his shirt, determined to remove this layer between them. 

Ron needs more. More of this. More of Damian. More of everything. He hears a popping sound, followed by a few ticks as flying buttons hit various items of furniture. Damian frowns down at his ruined shirt. Ron just laughs, grabs fistfuls of torn cotton and pulls him back down, to kiss his mouth and feel their bare chests pressed tightly together.  
About this time Damian starts to grind against him, creating a friction that Ron can't ignore. His cock gets the message, growing harder by the second and he can feel Damian having the same reaction. Ron reaches down, palms Damian through his pants to let him know he's noticed.

They are both still entirely too dressed for Damian's liking. He sits back, shrugs his shirt off, helps Ron get rid of his too. Ron's too busy staring at his naked torso, so it's up to Damian to go for the pants. He makes short work of releasing Ron's stiff cock from it's cloth confinement.

Ron's cock isn't huge, but it's lovely like the rest of him, dark and flushed like a rose petal, and when Damian strokes his fingertips over the velvety skin, the moan that issues from Ron's mouth is sinful.

He doesn't tease, Ron's waited long enough, he just pauses long enough to admire how much Ron wants this, then he leans down and seals his mouth over the erection. Ron gasps and his fingers twist into Damian's hair.

Oh dear God, it's so much sweeter than he ever imagined. Damian's pert mouth wrapped around him, sucking and licking like a trooper. Damian takes all of him into his mouth, essentially letting Ron fuck his throat, when his hips buck up because he just needs this so damn much.

Damian sucks hard, hollowing those pale cheeks, and when Ron looks down the line of his body, sees the red head of hair nestled at his crotch, combined with the way Damian's working him, he comes. Harder than he has in years.

Damian crawls up the bed, tucks in by his side and Ron rolls over, kisses his mouth, tastes himself there as he slips his hand into Damian's trousers. The kisses grow sloppier as he pumps his fist, and when Damian comes, they break apart, gasping for breath. 

They lay there panting side by side, Damian takes in Ron's heaving chest and his rosy cheeks. No, they aren't as young as they used to be.

When rational thought returns to him, part of Ron is horrified. _We rushed_ , he thinks. _All this time, all this waiting and it's over now. Gone._ This is just like him he knows, never satisfied. Flying high one minute, a total wreck the next.

"Hey," Damian says, eyes droopy with satisfaction. "It wasn't that bad."

Ron can't speak, can't think of a single thing to say, not that he thinks he'd be able to speak around the tightness in his throat. He can't form a coherent thought at all and suddenly his body is reacting, moving through no conscious effort of his own. One second there's space between them, and the next there isn't. He's clinging to Damian, he can't let go, he just can't. He can't go back to how it was, to that cold and lonely place. He'll die if he has to go back there.

Damian must sense his urgency and desperation, an uncertain hand is rubbing his back, and the tone of his voice is different. Ron's being stupid and clingy, he knows it's unattractive but he can't help it. 

"Hey, hey," Damian is cooing. "It's okay. You're okay. We're okay." Ron shakes his head against the crook of Damian's neck and burrows his face deeper into freckled skin. It's not okay, because Damian is going to leave him now. Ron hates his own neediness.

"I don't wanna be this person," he mumbles against Damian's warm, salty skin.

"What?" Damian says, prizing Ron back so he can see his face. Ron keeps his eyes on Damian's chest rather than meet his questioning gaze. 

Ron's trying to hide but Damian's not going to allow that. He slides his hand under Ron's shadowed chin and tilts his face up. 

"Talk to me, Ron. What's the matter?"

"I don't wanna be a burden," he confides.

"What do you mean?"

"Christ," Ron huffs, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I don't want you to be responsible for me. For my happiness to depend on you. I know it's too much to ask."

If anything, Damian looks confused.

"I think we need to rewind here."

Ron can't help the cynical laugh he chokes out.

"God, if only we could." He'd give anything to be that fresh-faced young man again, brimming with potential, on the cusp of a huge adventure. If he had another chance, would he let Damian go this time?

"You're not making any sense," Damian tells him. Ron knows, but it's hard to when you have no idea what it is you need.

Maybe he just needs to accept this as a Market Garden. He pulls away from Damian and scans the room for his clothes. There are bits and pieces everywhere.

"I should go."

"What?" Damian says, urgency bleeding into his tone. "You can't. We need to sort this out."

"It's too late," Ron sighs, though he still hasn't moved from the edge of the bed. "I missed my shot."

He feels the mattress depress directly behind him and then Damian's arms are clamped around his chest, holding him in place.

"No," he firmly states. "You never even took it."

Ron twists his head and manages to catch a look at Damian's face. The redhead looks so determined and full of fire.

"You can't be serious," Ron says. "I know what I am." He knows how unworthy he is. How difficult and demanding. How undesirable as a partner. He shouldn't have let himself get carried away.

"So do I," Damian insists, tightening his grip. "You're an idiot. For not asking sooner. So go ahead."

Jesus, now he's really been put on the spot. How the hell is he supposed to compress so much desire and longing, so much need, into a few words? The task seems impossible, but then he remembers they really only ever did have one thing in common. Ron takes a deep breath to steady himself and looks into Damian's winter-blue eyes, feels the faintest hint of a smile tug at his lips, because Damian's right, he is an idiot. Time to take the plunge. Damian gives him one of those crooked smiles, a wordless 'yes' he thinks, so Ron opens his mouth and asks the only question there is.

"Going my way?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
